


roadside flowers

by charmacden



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: (not major), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Death, Hospitalization Due To Having Too Much Fun, Imprisonment Due To Having Too Much Fun, M/M, Major Character Injury, Motocross AU, Runaway, Synesthesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:03:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9478736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmacden/pseuds/charmacden
Summary: Staying at his mother's place in Brooklyn seemed to be going smoothly until a motorcycle riding, beard sporting guy with a sense of honey-mustard yellow and periwinkle blue came into Anakin's picture.





	

**Author's Note:**

> okay the most cliche summary ever but it's late at night and i'm really excited?? 
> 
> i've had this idea for a lil while bc ewan is a motorbike collector/rider and i thought "hey why not throw obi wan onto a bike and make him do some sick tricks" so i've turned it into a fic :)

 

He’s never enjoyed the painstakingly long drive between his parent’s houses. How could they choose to live so far across the country from each other, knowing they have to share their son so often? It's so red-grey-yellow listening to his mother blab on about her adventures at home in Brooklyn with her friends and the guys she’s met and the places she’s been to. She never leaves New York, only ever to pick up Anakin from his father’s house if Anakin’s father has passed out drunk on the hammock again.

Anakin knows she could be getting out more, visiting other countries, catching up with her family in New Zealand, hiking, skiing, canoeing. All the stuff she’s told Anakin she used to do ‘back in the day’ when the air smelled of cigarettes and deteriorating denim. Anakin was only young when that lifestyle of hers ended, and about the same time Shmi and Anakin’s father got a divorce.

The grey-purple rain pours down heavy on Shmi’s little black car, and Anakin’s neck is like a kinked hose from resting on his hand the whole trip. His feet are cold and numb, just like the feel of the grainy television, and the sound of the radio mixed with Shmi’s talking has blurred in with the sound of the rain hitting the roof of the car.

Anakin falls asleep again and wakes up when they pull into the driveway of the frail, sandy house right in the blue tranquility of the outskirts of the busy and roudy city.

“I always miss this place.” Anakin smiles as he walks his bags into his room. Shmi helps him settle into his room, opening his curtains and putting his pillow on his bed.

“Alright, well. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything, Ani.” She pulls Anakin close and gives him a peck on the forehead, sending a rush of bird feather lightness through his veins. Anakin smiles fondly at her. “Oh, I almost forgot!” Shmi laughs, still holding Anakin’s shoulders. “You wanna see Ahsoka, don’t you?”

Anakin nods. Oh how he’s missed his best friend. He pictures her running towards him with a bright smile, laughing, her silver dreadlocks bouncing behind her and his chest fills with pink-beige. Fondness.

“I’ve arranged for her to drop by and pick you up! I’m out of milk and bread, so if you wouldn’t mind…”

“Of course, of course!” Anakin hugs her and he hears rough dark pink sound in front of their house, the familiar sound of Ahsoka's car. He kisses his mother on the cheek and calls out, “Love you!” as he runs down the stairs and outside to greet his best friend.

Ahsoka stands on the driveway, smiling wide, just as Anakin remembers, and catches him in an aggressive hug. “Ugh. Get off me, you big lug.”

Anakin laughs. “I’ve missed you, Snips.” The last time he should have seen her was last time he stayed with his mother here in Brooklyn, but instead, Ahsoka was on a trip with her father to Hawaii, lucky girl. It’s been just over five months since Anakin saw her last, and he feels red-violet disappointed that it’s been that long.

“Yuck.” She retorts, “Let’s go get that milk and bread.” She shoves him away cheekily and jumps into the car. “Come on!”

Anakin shakes his head and hops into the passenger seat. When they get to the store, Ahsoka notices she’s running out of gas and pulls into the petrol station right next door. Anakin hops out and walks to the doors of the store. Bells ring as Anakin steps in, and the few people in the store stop to look at him for a moment, his veins fill with icy anxiety for a moment, before they go back to their business. Anakin hums along to the hardwood song on the radio and finds the bread and milk. He takes the bread, places it on his arm like a newborn, and picks up the two milks, one for each hand. Carefully, he turns to walk over to the counter.

Firstly, the bread falls from his arm, which causes his hand to fly out and grasp onto it. Which, secondly, makes him realise he’s now let go of the milk, and thirdly, it’s splattered all over the ground and Anakin’s face fills with deep orange-green embarrassment.

“Oh, my!” A lady shrieks from behind Anakin as he kneels down to pick the carton off the ground. “Can I help you there, darling?”

“No, no it-”

“I’ve got it, not to worry.” A low English voice speaks above Anakin. He looks up and this bearded guy with sea blue-green eyes smirks at him.

Anakin’s eyebrows shoot up and he only just manages to say, “Thanks” in a cotton soft voice. He sees the guy holding a roll of paper towel, which he must have collected from the counter, and he smiles. The guy kneels down with Anakin, tears off a handful of towel and hands it to Anakin, and it’s so stupid, but their fingers brush and Anakin’s breathing skips a step.

The guy tears off a piece for himself and chuckles this deep honey chuckle. “How did you get yourself into this mess?”

“Multi tasking isn’t really my forte.” Anakin says, mopping up the milk as best as he can. He can feel the guy’s eyes still locked on him, and that A minor smirk behind his spectacularly groomed beard is still there. The milk is pretty much gone and the guy takes Anakin’s milk-soaked paper towel from him. “Thanks for that.” Anakin says and picks up his bread and lone, intact milk.

“It’s no worries. Here, I’ll pay for another milk for you.” The man pulls out his wallet from his dark blue coloured jeans and pulls out a ten note.

“No! No, it’s fine, I can get these. I don’t really need two. Thank you, though. Really.” Anakin reassures him and walks to the counter to pay for the two items he has left. He turns around to see the guy smiling at him again and Anakin chuckles to himself. What a guy.

Anakin’s putting the plastic bag in the back seat when he hears green-peach footsteps quickly planting their way over to him. He turns, expecting Ahsoka, but is instead greeted with the familiar handsome face from inside. He’s still fucking smiling and it’s causing fist tight pains in Anakin’s chest. The guy hands Anakin a carton of milk and the receipt.

“It’s no worries.” He says before Anakin can refuse. The bearded man struts off, and Anakin can’t help but glance at his rear end. He’s walking towards a motorbike, and God, could this guy get any hotter? Apparently not. He straddles the bike, detaches the helmet from the side, and revs the engine as loud as he can. It's a sound that reminds Anakin of his favourite band and he smiles.

Show-off.

He salutes Anakin with two leather-gloved fingers before he’s speeding off down the street.

Ahsoka appears at Anakin’s side. “Oh my fu-”

“Yeah,” Anakin smiles, pink-beige running through his chest, “I know.”


End file.
